Shipwreck Island Read online

  There was nothing for Marco to do on that flight but sit there and not sleep and not watch a movie on the entertainment screen that did not work. So he reached up and pushed the button for the overhead light. He took ahold of the book, which he had no intention of even opening.

  5

  Sarah scrunched up her nose against the musty smell and took one lengthy and disgusted look at the hotel room. Threadbare bedspread. Yellowed pillowcases. Warped and dirty wooden headboard.

  As exhausted as she was, after being on planes and dragging through airports for the past thirty-five hours, she could not picture herself lying on that bed. She could not even picture herself touching anything in that heinous hotel room. The only bright spot was that making the trip seem bad was going to be simpler than she planned, and she didn’t even have to act her way through this situation.

  She spun on her heel and headed back out to the hallway. “No way, not doing it. I’ll probably catch bedbugs. Or some rare tropical disease.”

  Her father had dark bags under his eyes and looked to be in no mood for any nonsense. “Sarah, it’s just for one night. We go on our cruise tomorrow.”

  Sarah scowled. “If it’s just for one night, then why are we in a dive?”

  Her father blew out a long breath. “The resort wouldn’t let the five of us stay in the room I reserved for two. Despite the fact it was a suite with a pullout couch.” He held out his hands. “This one didn’t seem that bad. We don’t really have any other options at the last minute. It’s this or the street. And I am tired.”

  Sarah was rather confident that the street would be nicer, but she kept her opinion to herself.

  Yvonna came down the hallway, rolling her suitcase, the boys following behind. She said, “Sarah, I’ll stay with you and let your dad and the boys share the other room.”

  Sleep with her stepmother? No way! Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but her dad shot a dark look her way. She shut her mouth.

  Yvonna stepped into the doorway and froze, then sucked her lower lip inside her mouth.

  John let out an exasperated sigh. “I know, I know, it’s fairly sketchy. But we have no choice.”

  Yvonna set a hand on his arm. “It’ll be fine.” She smiled at her boys. “Inconvenience is adventure, wrongly considered. Right? And it’s just for one night.”

  Marco and Nacho exchanged a glance. Nacho unzipped his fanny pack, took out a clear travel-size bottle of hand sanitizer, and squeezed out a large dollop onto his palm, the stark smell of alcohol drifting toward Sarah. Then he held the bottle up and Marco held out his hand for some.

  Marco rubbed his hands together. “We’ve stayed in worse.”

  Sarah shook her head and went back inside the room. There was only the one bed, and it was a smallish queen size. Really? She had to actually sleep with her new stepmother?

  Things could not possibly get any worse.

  She dropped her suitcase and unzipped it to grab her bag of toiletries, and went into the dark bathroom.

  Sarah flipped the switch, flooding the windowless room with light.

  A cockroach the size of her thumb skittered across the floor.

  Her scream was a high-pitched sound that pierced the middle-of-the-night quiet and brought the other four running. Sarah pointed to the toilet. “A huge cockroach! He went behind there!”

  “Probably a palmetto bug,” said John. “He won’t bother you.”

  Marco said, “Unless they fly like they do in Texas.”

  Sarah glared at him.

  Yvonna held out a key. “Good night, Marco.”

  He took the key and hauled his suitcase to the door across the hall. He opened it and disappeared inside, Nacho right on his heels.

  John said, “Keep the light on in here and the bug won’t come back.”

  Sarah looked out into the room. If that was the case, those lights were not going off, ever. She did not want to wake up in the dark and find one of those—she shuddered—things crawling on her.

  “I want to go home!” She slammed the bathroom door and unzipped her bag. As she did her nightly ritual of flossing and brushing, she kept stealing glances at the toilet, waiting for that unspeakable nasty to make another unwanted appearance. When she finished in there, without seeing anything worse than the grungy tile floor, she went back out into the room.

  Her father had gone, and Yvonna sat on the edge of the bed. She yawned. Her eyes were a little bloodshot and she looked tired. “All done in there?”

  On the flight, Sarah had decided giving Yvonna the silent treatment might be one way to ruin the trip, but she couldn’t help responding. “It’s so disgusting.”

  Yvonna took a glance around. “I’m sure you’re used to staying in better hotels than this.” She handed a brochure to Sarah. “Your dad left this for you. Thought it might be reassuring for you to see what our sailing cruise will be like.”

  Sarah didn’t make any move to take it from her, so Yvonna set it on the bed, went into the bathroom, and closed the door.

  Sarah leapt at the bed and snatched up the brochure, which proclaimed:

  The photograph on the front was of a large, pristine wooden sailboat with crisp white sails, afloat a gorgeous crystal-blue sea. She opened the brochure and started reading:

  This sixty-foot vessel provides luxury charters, skippered by an internationally experienced captain with a wealth of local knowledge. In addition, private cruises include a fully qualified chef, whose culinary talents indulge guests with gourmet meals prepared fresh with local ingredients. Even the fussiest of taste buds will succumb to the delightful fare.

  Sounded good so far.

  Enjoy visiting unspoiled bays, picturesque harbors, and uninhabited atolls accessible only by boat. Ends of the Earth will get you to the ends of the earth … in one-of-a-kind, luxurious style.

  “Nice.” Sarah grinned. “That’s way more of what I’m used to.”

  Then she got into bed, cringing at the sandpapery sheets. She lay on her side, hugging the edge, then stuck one of the two pillows from her side right behind her back. A wall between her and her new stepmother. Sarah closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, awash with relief that the sailboat would be a thousand times better than the hotel room.

  6

  The next morning they crowded into a taxi that took them to the harbor. After they unloaded, Marco stood at the dock, shaking his head at the vessel that floated in front of them. “That’s it?” The sailboat, if it could be called that, was about sixty feet long. The white paint was peeling off in spots, revealing bare wood underneath. The sails were nearly all furled, but the slim strip of material visible to Marco seemed dingy, not bright white like he had anticipated. The lines tying the sailboat to the mooring were so frayed they looked like a good yank would break them in half. A faded sign, a bit off-kilter, declared HMS MOONFLIGHT.

  He stepped closer to the boat and looked down into the water. On the hull, below the water line, was a brown film, with some seaweedy, grassy parts in spots. Marco wrinkled his nose. That couldn’t be good.

  “Is this thing safe?” Nacho was already paging through the “Boating Safety” chapter in his Eco-Scout manual. “Because it does not look all that safe to me.”

  Sarah let loose with a near growl. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” She dug around in her bag, and then brandished a shiny brochure. “That’s not the boat!”

  John took the brochure and looked at it, then back at the sailboat. “Actually…” He squinted at the sailboat. “Add a new coat of paint and some new sails, and … I think it is this boat.”

  Sarah grabbed the brochure back and glared at it. “How many decades ago was that picture even taken? This is such false advertising.” Turning her back to him, she crossed her arms, staring out at the harbor. “How could you not check it out before we got here?”

  Actually, Marco found himself wondering the same thing.

  A man with a shock of white hair on his head and a few days’ of gray, bristly beard on h
is face jumped off the Moonflight and onto the dock. Thin and muscular, he wore blue board shorts and a grungy white T-shirt with a small hole near the bottom hem. He took off his navy-blue captain’s hat and bowed his head slightly.

  “Welcome to Moonflight. I’m Captain Norm.”

  John held out his hand and shook. “Um, thanks. I’m not sure we’re in the right place.” He pointed at the brochure in Sarah’s hand. “We booked the luxury cruise?”

  Captain Norm grinned, revealing a couple of gold teeth. Quickly, he pivoted around and pointed at his back with the index fingers of both hands. Everyone read the words on the back of his T-shirt:

  Facing them again, he held both his arms out straight. “This is the place!”

  “Oh man,” mumbled Marco. What were they getting into?

  Yvonna pulled on John’s arm. “Are you sure this is the cruise you booked? I expected something … nicer.”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes and spat out, “What, this boat isn’t good enough for you?” Then Sarah dragged her suitcase toward Moonflight.

  Nacho followed.

  John called out, “Hey, kids. I’m not so sure about this. Hold on a sec—”

  Captain Norm tilted his head at John. “Is there a problem?” His tone was slightly threatening.

  Angry at Sarah for making his mom seem like a diva when she most certainly wasn’t, Marco scowled as he watched his new stepfather retreat a bit.

  John said, “I’m not sure this is the kind of vessel we were planning on boarding.”

  Captain Norm crossed his arms and his thick, bushy eyebrows knotted together. “Something wrong with my boat?”

  John shook his head. “No, no, I didn’t mean anything like that.”

  Marco rolled his eyes. Of course John would back down. Distaste for his new stepfather swam in his head. Marco scoffed, “What, scared of a stupid boat?” And he picked up his duffel bag and headed for the sailboat.

  Yvonna and John exchanged a glance, a lengthy one loaded with exhaustion, desperation, and a tad bit of defeat. John sighed. “Fine. Let’s just load up.”

  On board, a slim, well-muscled young man with bleached blond hair that contrasted with his darkly tanned skin took their luggage downstairs. Captain Norm directed everyone to an open area at the back of the boat where a few dented lawn chairs sat haphazardly. “Have a seat. I have to deal with the inspector.”

  The family sat and watched as a sunburned, portly man with a clipboard stepped on board. He took a cursory look around the boat before asking Norm, “You’re the skipper?”

  Captain Norm nodded.

  “First mate? You know a boat this size needs a crew of two around here.” The inspector looked around. “You’re not putting anything past me, are you?”

  Marco and Nacho exchanged a glance.

  Captain Norm grinned. “Of course not.” He whistled, and the young man came bounding up the stairs and handed a piece of paper to the inspector. The inspector nodded. “First mate, Ahab … I can’t read the last name?”

  “My penmanship isn’t what it used to be.” Captain Norm reached out to grab the sheet of paper, but the inspector waved him away. “No matter. Ahab is good enough. What matters is you’ve actually got a first mate.” He walked around a bit more, and then disembarked.

  Captain Norm called out, “All aboard that’s goin’ aboard!”

  “We’re already here,” Marco muttered. He had been hoping the boat wouldn’t pass inspection. No such luck.

  The skipper called out to John, “Can you get the bowline for me?”

  John stepped out onto the dock and stood there, looking around.

  Captain Norm pointed to the front of the boat. John undid the line, tossed it onto the boat, and then stepped back on. The young man did the same thing to the line at the back of the boat, then leapt aboard.

  As the motor started up and the boat began to pull away from the dock, Marco felt his heart speed up. He’d never been on a boat on the open ocean, and he was excited. He and Nacho went up to the front of the boat, where the fresh, salty breeze blew into their faces, a bit of refreshing sea spray with it.

  Marco rode backward to watch the sails unfurl. They were a dull white, with dark, patchy parts. Mold, maybe? He was relieved to see no holes, though, and turned back around as Moonflight headed out. As the boat reached the harbor’s mouth, just as they were about to enter the open sea—

  Kerploosh!

  Marco and Nacho ran to the side of the boat and leaned over the railing, looking back toward shore and the sound of the splash. No one had surfaced yet. Marco crossed his fingers, hoping either John or Sarah had fallen overboard, never to be seen again. But as they watched, a bleached-blond head poked out of the waves while strong, tanned arms began to confidently stroke their way back toward the dock.

  “Hey!” yelled Nacho, pointing at the swimmer. “Ahab is going back to shore!”

  Captain Norm, at the helm, called, “Naw, he’s not.” Then he whistled, a different tone from before, and from down below scampered up what looked like a smallish bear, but what was actually an enormous black Newfoundland.

  Sarah screeched as the dog put its giant paws up into her lap and began licking her face.

  Captain Norm laughed. “That is Ahab.”

  “Our first mate is a dog?” Nacho opened his Eco-Scouts manual. “That does not seem safe to me. Not at all.” He paged through a bit, shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure that’s not even allowed.”

  Sarah fell over in her chair, shrieking, the dog on top of her as John tried to pull him back. Marco leaned back against the railing and laughed. The trip might not be that bad after all.

  7

  Sarah was on her knees, head sticking out between the strands of rope railing, heaving her guts into the wake of the sailboat. Her head swirled and she just wanted to lie down. But as soon as her head hit the deck, the next dip of the boat had her nausea surging, and she was back up on her knees in seconds. The boat leaned from side to side, as if it were going to tip over, making her scared as well as sick. “Dad, I want to get off!”

  “Sarah, I am so sorry.” John paced the deck behind her. “I never even thought of bringing motion sickness pills. I never get sick on boats; your mother never got sick on boats.” He stepped over to the hatch and yelled down into it. “Did you find anything yet?”

  Captain Norm came up from below and stepped back onto the deck, holding a small white bottle. “Found some.”

  John sighed and took the bottle. “Oh, thank goodness.” He glanced at the label and frowned. “These expired three years ago.”

  Captain Norm shrugged. “They only put expiration dates on those things so you’ll buy more. I’m sure they’re fine.”

  John shook his head and handed them back. “You can keep them.”

  “Dad,” Sarah moaned. “Do something.” She lay down on her side, both hands curled under her head. She shut her eyes, but then the motion seemed worse.

  Yvonna came up the stairs. “I made some ginger tea. Well, not exactly tea, just sugar and ginger, but it might make you feel better. I give it to the boys when they have sore throats.”

  Sarah glared at her. “My throat is fine.”

  Yvonna nodded. “I know. But some people also swear it’s a cure for seasickness. Want to try?”

  “Thanks,” said John. He took the mug and knelt by Sarah. “Honey? Want to try this?”

  Sarah did not want to take anything from Yvonna, but she was desperate, not dumb. If there was the slightest chance that the tea would stop the rolling in her head …

  She nodded.

  Her dad helped her sit up and held on to her back as she took a cautious sip. She made a face. “It’s like … spicy. But not.” She took another sip, then held the mug in both her hands, letting the steam curl up into her face. She breathed in, liking the smell. “I’ll drink it.” Although she still felt like her head was about to fall off, the tea gave her something to think about besides being sick. She faced the front of the sh
ip, trying to focus on the horizon, which was the only thing not moving as far as she could tell.

  Ahab came and lay down beside her, snout on his outstretched paws. Sarah thought he looked meek and apologetic, almost as if he felt it were his fault for her being sick. Despite his overzealous greeting earlier, Sarah found it hard to hold a grudge, so she set her hand on his hefty back and rubbed. “Hey, boy.” He wore a navy blue collar with a silver anchor-shaped tag. Sarah held it so she could read the word on it. AHABB. “I thought it was spelled with only one B.”

  “It is.” Captain Norm stopped and patted the dog’s head. “Dumb company misspelled his name. He had a better tag, but he lost it on an island last year.” He scratched his chin. “In fact, I think he lost it on the island we’re heading to.”

  “Maybe we’ll find it,” said Sarah.

  Captain Norm smiled. “Maybe.” He tipped back his hat and pointed out at the water. “See anything interesting?”

  “Like what?”

  Captain Norm rubbed his bristled chin. “You never know. Dolphins. Whales. Mermaids.”

  Sarah smirked. “Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for mermaids.”

  The skipper narrowed his eyes. “I’m serious.” He looked out at the waves. “I’ve been sailing since I was eighteen. Spent seven years in the Caribbean.” He raised his eyebrows at Sarah. “Met some interesting folks.”

  “Mermaids?” Sarah rolled her eyes.

  He pointed at her. “I met people who believed in them. Old men who had been on the seas for years. They had stories. They believed.”

  Sarah frowned. “Do you believe in mermaids?”

  Captain Norm grinned. “If you’d seen some of the things I’ve seen? You’d believe in just about anything.” He stood and headed back to the helm.

  Nacho followed him, holding his Eco-Scout safety manual out in front of him. He asked, “How many personal flotation devices do you have on board? You need to have at least one for each passenger.”

  Captain Norm pointed to the back of the boat, near Sarah and Ahab. “Check the locker there.”